Poems

Below are two poems by local Poets. I will add biographical details later.

First up is a poem by Paddy Malervy

Malervey’s Auction With instructions I’m favoured by auction to sell The effects of a house beside Clynan Mill Owned by Malervey from Ballinalee Who’s going from Erin far over the sea The following items I vow in my heart Are the best, and the latest in modern art Aluminium teapots, side kettle and pan Dishes, aye dishes! Knives, forks, spoons and pans Two mincers for meat and a flipper for eggs A side-table fine, with mahogany legs A few double beds, with mattress and springs Long curtains, short curtains, long poles, clips and rings Flower pot, pretty pot, and go to pot crooks Mahogany cheat full of novelty books We have hearth rugs, and cart rugs, of triangular brand Made twenty to one with good ballast and sand We have also some splendid stuffed badgers and bears And the latest design in tables and chairs We have dishes for ranges to keep puddings hot And desert plates, deserted as often as not! A few vacuum cleaners, for parlour and hall And other such things you haven’t at all While out in the yard we have harrows and ploughs Four dairy horses! and three working cows! A shaker for slag and a shaker for bones A B.S.A motor and a few telephones A radium set to polish you shoes And to fodder the cows, when you go on the booze A flock of fine chickens and hollow ground hens A few little goats, and a cat in her pins We have tall hats and short hats, for coachman and all When driving you off to swank at a ball We have valued oil paintings, I can’t tell you why The works of great artists from ages gone bye A painting by Angelo set on a stool Portraying the flower of fair Abbeyshrule I expect for the same a hatful of gold And if I don’t get, it ne’er shall be sold I’d never sell out, but I’m going o’er the foam If you won’t come to auction, then you can stay at-home For soon I’ll be off on that fast train to Cork And then I’ll be ready to sail To start a "speak easy" beyond in New York A credit to Auld Grainnuail I’ll sell opium and laudanum, strong poteen and beer For while I intend to remain I’ll make a big fortune right up in a year And sure then I’ll come back home again As rich as a Jew I vow in my heart A merchant at last shall I be I’ll buy a fine donkey, a basket and cart A credit to auld Ballinalee Paddy Malervey Castlebrock

Next is a poem by Willie Donnelly

Edgeworthstown Court, Petty Sessions The peelers are now quiet, when they're walking up and down But, Sergeant Tom O'Grady, he seem to wear a frown He does not look so cheerful since he heard the latest news An ass can wear protectors, without having any shoes Ding dong! ding dong! what will the Sergeant do An ass can wear protectors without having any shoes The pigs and goats are dangerous, he did not let them stray And a Jennet he arrested when going from Croshea He didn't get the benefit of everything he swore And no one claims the donkey, which grieves him to the core The decision of the R.M. has baffled him for fair And ever since the court day he's been fighting with his hair His intellect's uncertain, and his head is in a lump He rambles down the "Pound Hill" and handcuffs up the pump Although he is not fond of drink, he hates those who from it keep Since the pint went up to tuppence, not many fall asleep A few old straying asses, to him don't signify For the fine is only sixpence, when the grunter leaves the sty He'd rather see a hopping horse, or a helpless drunken man And he'd like to see all J.P.s like the "Bullock" Mike McCann I think he's not a bit polite, when in court he has an air He often begs the pardon of the man whose in the chair He makes bosh of all his evidence, in the case of ass or mule Of the law he knows but little, he hasn't one new rule Oh Sergeant Tom O'Grady, you soon will stand at ease For it wasn't in the trenches that you got up those "V's" It was guarding bullock ranchers, you gained credit and renown You never pulled a trigger to save King George or Crown